30 June 2012
Only as a Poet Can I see you Or anything Or speak Or even breath
Only then can the world exist for me For me to exist in And be As nothing grants life like poetry
Through the poem itself We are Things are And are defined
Noticed Loved Abandoned And left behind
Or caught up In a butterfly net And pinned down To remind
Memories Fabricated and bottled Like the pills we pop To feel How we want to feel At will
A book of poems Like a tapestry of time This bottle poured out Creation itself
...divine
Only As A Poet • Opuss № I